Shallow End
by suspect tomatoes
Summary: He told me to put on a rock show. Ledgeacy one-shot.


**A/N: Sunny's planning on posting a Ledgeacy story soon, so I'm gonna be a follower and write a one-shot.  
**

"There's nothing to _do_."

Usually, Adam enjoyed having nothing to do. He liked just sitting around, sometimes outside, where he could really bond with nature. But today it was raining, and even though he knew he'd be able to communicate with the rain and winds, Jay and Ted would not be into that idea.

So they sat around and smoked with Jericho, because what else was there?

He nodded. "Yeah. You're right."

Jericho stood up. "I could strip for you guys—"

Adam just grabbed his arm and tugged him back onto the couch.

Jay sighed, fluttering his lips. "Someone call Nick."

"_Why_?"

"I don't know, we never hang out with him."

"There's a reason for that."

"What?"

"He makes our girlfriends take off their clothes."

Jay half-smiled. "Yeah, well I can do that, too."

Jericho sat up. "Someone call Randy!"

Adam started to shake his head, but Jay cut him off. "I'm due for another sexy lesson anyway—"

Ted sat up slightly. "Dude, I can't... Oh, man. I can't feel my feet."

The three Canadians just stared at him, frowning.

Ted looked up, removing his sock. "Dude. I'm not joking. They're, like, _not there anymore_."

"They're still there, Ted."

"But they _aren't_, man. I can't feel them!" He whacked his big foot against the coffee table, knocking over Jericho's pink drink. "Shit! Why can't I feel them?"

Adam ran a hand down his face. "Ted's not exactly a stoner, is he?"

"He'll get used to it." Jericho looked around for his pipe. "I need another hit. Anyone seen it?"

Ted was examining his toes, pulling them back and forth. "Shit. Shit, it's like I'm touching someone else's foot."

Jericho got down on his hands and knees—the usual position for him—and started crawling around the couch, lingering between Adam's knees.

He booted him. "Don't even think about it."

"I was just looking for my pipe—"

"You were looking at _his_ pipe," Jay put in.

Jericho glared at him. "I liked you better when you were half-retarded."

"And we liked you better when you were straight." Adam sighed. "Maybe we _should_ call Nick. At least it'd be something diff—_Chris_."

"_What_?"

"Hands _off_."

Jericho removed his fingers from the tiny space of couch between Adam's thighs. "You're no fun."

Adam rolled his eyes. "Unless you guys can think of something better to do. I'd personally enjoy connecting with nature, but I know—"

Ted looked up suddenly. "I want some steak. Do you guys hear music?"

Jay turned to Chris. "Did you lace this with acid or something?"

"I think he'd die if I did that." Chris sat back on his haunches. "I think he's just really stoned. Southern Christian boys don't get high that often. Though they should, since then I could take advantage of them!"

Ted's gaze shot around the room frantically, searching the ceiling. "Oh, my God, where the fuck is that music coming from?" He looked at his foot, blinking, before he pressed his ear to it. "Holy _shit_, my foot is playing music!"

"Ted, I think you need some air—"

He started moving his toes. "Guys. Shit, my toes are like, a _piano_, man."

"Sing us a song, you're the piano man!" Jericho belted loudly. "God, I love Billy Joel. I wonder if he's available..."

Adam rubbed his chin. "You know, that's not a bad idea."

Jay blinked. "_What_?"

Chris started bouncing. "YOU WANT TO DATE HIM TOO?"

Adam pushed his face away. "No, no, I meant the piano man part."

"I'm not following."

"No, that's Mack's job." Adam nodded. "Let's start a band."

* * *

"You're doing it wrong!"

"Don't tell me how to be in a band, I'm al_ready_ in a band!"

"A shitty band!"

"_Hey_!"

Adam bumped Chris's hip. "That's it, I'm singing. You're picking up tambourine."

"Fuck _that_. You can't sing for shit."

"Who can hit the high notes?"

"IN ONE SONG!"

Adam rolled his eyes. "If we're gonna be a KISS cover band, then I'm the fucking lead singer."

"Whoever agreed to that? I thought we were covering Josh Groban songs!"

Jay strummed on his bass lightly. "I'm fine with Adam being the singer."

Chris's face reddened. "Fine! _Ted_. Your vote?"

Ted looked up from his catatonic state, glancing around quickly. "Holy shit, am I in a spaceship?"

"You're on drums, Ted."

"I'm on _what_?" He tried to stand up, spinning. "Oh, my God, I can't get out. Someone get me out of here!"

"Ted, take it easy—"

Ted yelped when he tripped on an extension chord, taking out half his set. His head crashed into the cymbals as his ass broke through the bass drum.

Adam covered his face. "Jericho, just take the goddamn tambou_rine_."

"What about the accordion?"

"_Chris_!"

"Well, what if we get Randy to play tambourine? He can wear a hot pink cowboy hat and matching booty shorts." He paused, looking between Adam and Jay's solemn faces. "_What_? Sex sells."

Ted started struggling, rolling from side to side, stuck in the equipment. He looked like a hermit crab. "Guys! GUYS! GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

Jay put down his bass and started wrenching Ted out of the drum. "He's never smoking again, _got it_? He can't handle the shit Jericho deals."

"I don't _deal_."

"Yes, you do."

"_Yeah_. To _high schoolers_. That's not exactly a drug dealer."

Adam nodded. "Chris is right. That's a full on rapist."

Chris smiled triumphantly. "Yes, I—HEY, WAIT—"

"What are you morons up to today?"

Everyone turned to Randy's wet frame as he closed the door. It really must've been coming down out there.

Jericho touched his neck, turning pink. "Oh. Uh, um, well. Hi. Randy."

Randy just rolled his eyes. "Why'd you call me?"

Adam slid his guitar onto his back like a hippie hitch-hiker. "We're starting a band and we need another guitarist."

"What about the—"

Adam put his hand over Chris's mouth. "You're on guitar, Randy. _Chris_ is playing tambourine."

"I don't wanna be in your shitty rock band." He went over to the couch and sat down, kicking his shoes off, pipe already in his hand. "Where's the stash?"

Chris put his hands on his hips. "You come to Adam's house, you smoke my weed, and then you _insult_ our band?"

"Shut up—"

"No, I get it! That's what it is! I'm being shit on! And—"

The front door opened. "I saw Randy's car in the driveway, I came home just in—" Mack paused, stumbling slightly when Kaitlyn and Sunny came tumbling into her.

Adam pursed his lips. "Hi, babe."

Chris noticed the boxes in Kait's hands. "DONUTS!"

Mack stepped forward after Chris came barreling past her, ripping the box open and tearing into two bear claws at the same time. "What are you guys... up to?"

Chris answered her, but his mouth was filled with chocolate and cream, so he just sounded like Andre the Giant.

Mack glanced back at Adam. "Care to translate?"

"We started a band." Adam looked at the destruction behind him. "But, uh, Ted started panicking and then Chris wouldn't play the tambourine and then Randy wouldn't even _be _in the band, so now it's just… Jay. And I."

Kaitlyn frowned. "Are you sure this isn't just a ploy for you two to… _spend time together_?"

Mack grimaced at her. "Ew."

"NO!" Adam put his guitar down. "No, we just had... nothing to do."

"So, why didn't you call us?"

"Because you guys were off drinking."

"And whoring yourselves," Jay added. He took a donut from Kaitlyn's hands and ate it in the sexiest way possible.

Sunny looked over his shoulder. "Is... Is Ted unconscious?"

"I don't know. Probably."

Sunny frowned, hurrying over to him. He jerked around when she touched his shoulder, sitting up and ripping his shirt over his head. "Ted, calm down!"

"DID I JUST RIP OFF MY SKIN?" Ted glanced around, over his shoulder, at his knees, in his shorts. "Oh, my God. Shit, is there food?"

Sunny looked at Jericho. "You didn't take advantage of him, did you?"

Chris just licked icing off his thumb. "As tempting as it was, no."

Mack snorted slightly. "So. The Shitty Beatles, huh? Are they any good?"

Adam rolled his eyes. And again, when Mack nudged him. "They _suck_."

"So it's not just a clever name."

Adam shook his head, heading for the kitchen. "I hate that you make me do that. Who wants beer?"

Everyone shouted loudly in approval, making Adam cringe as he left the room.

Chris grabbed another pastry. "We were gonna call Nick, but—"

Kaitlyn practically dropped the box. "_Dolph_?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Why _didn't you_?"

Chris shrugged. "I don't know! I was all for it, but Adam and Jay said something about you two ripping your clothes off at the sight of him."

Mack glanced over at Adam when he came back in, handing her a beer. "How come you didn't call Nick?"

Sunny came over, holding Ted up. "Who didn't call Nick?"

"I didn't." Adam handed her a beer, then held one out for Ted, but he didn't respond.

"Why _not_?"

"Because I don't like watching Mack touch other guys."

"And I don't like Kaitlyn tearing off her shirts whenever Nick tells her to." Jay cracked open his bottle. "That shit's expensive."

The girls all glanced at each other.

"But... he's... so _hot_."

Adam snorted, just rolling his eyes. "God, you bitches are so shallow."

**A/N: Sunny Dee, I don't know if you think Dolph's hot, but for the sake of being shallow, let's say you do! I should've ended it with the Wayne's World quote, but I do that a lot. This was funnnnn I like writing Ted stoned. Ledgeacy forever, I love you ring rats! Review, you assholes.**


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